Chapter 23

He awoke with a start. He had been dreaming about Claire. He laid in the darkness for several minutes, unwilling to let the images slip away. Finally, he got up and headed for the bathroom, not bothering to turn on a light. When he finished, instead of going back to bed he made his way to the kitchen. Taking a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet he poured himself a drink, then walked to the window of the living room and stared out at the street.

It had been a long while since he had dreamed of her. Right after the accident she had haunted his dreams almost every night, sometimes in the form of nightmares. Reading the police report had been a mistake. His imagination had recreated the entire accident in intricate detail. But in most of his dreams she was just there. He saw her sitting beside him in the courtroom. He saw her standing beside his desk and would hear her hair brush her collar as she leaned forward to look over his shoulder. He would feel her arms wrapped tightly around his torso as they rode his motorcycle. And he would see her sitting on his couch, amid all his clutter, painting her toenails. His dreams were filled with the ordinary moments they had shared in the two years they had been together. And when he awoke, he was filled with emptiness.

But it wasn't the thought of those ordinary moments or even the emptiness that kept him awake after dreaming of her. It was the thoughts of what might have been.

Their feelings on the death penalty had been at opposite ends of the scale. And neither of them had seemed willing or able to understand the other's point of view, although each had expressed such on more than one occasion. It had been a sore spot with them from the time the death penalty had been reinstated. They were both well aware that at some point they would have to face the consequences of that law in a way that the ordinary people who had voted it in never would. And when that time came, instead of reaching out to each other, they had retreated to opposite sides of the line, each dealing with their overwhelming emotions separately.

Taking another sip of his drink, he sighed and put his hand flat against the cold glass. He had worried about their relationship in the days before the accident. They hadn't talked much those last few days and that had only served to widen the gulf between them.

But he couldn't forget the fact that she had finally shown up to meet him the night it happened. Van Buren had come to him several days after the funeral to tell him of her last conversation with Claire. And from what she had told him and from what he knew of Claire, he couldn't help but wonder if she hadn’t come to some sort of peace with it all, and with him as well. And that, even more than the anger and self-incrimination, was the thought that kept him awake for hours, drinking Scotch and staring out of the window.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward until his forehead touched the glass. But this time, it wasn't Claire's face and dark soulful eyes that he saw when he closed his own. The eyes he saw were blue-green and the face was different. He opened his eyes and straightened, looking out at the quiet street with a frown.

***Thursday was a long day for McCoy. After relating to Carmichael the previous evening's events, they both agreed it was pointless to continue working on the files from Fairchild's office. So he had returned to the pending files on his desk and had handled a plea agreement meeting for one of the other D.A.'s. But he wasn't in a pleasant or charitable mood and the meeting had ended with the angry defense attorney storming out of his office. He had chosen to keep mostly to himself the rest of the day. Carmichael at least partly understood the reason for his mood but was at a loss as to how to help. She had left for the day around 6:00, leaving McCoy to finish his files alone.

The call from Compton didn't come until after 7:00.

"I just left the airport. Calea is on her way back."

McCoy leaned back in his chair and tried to let some of the tension seep from his body.

"So everything went all right?"

"I guess that depends on how you define 'all right'. She drove my car to a coffee shop this morning and went in. By the time my detectives got inside, she had already slipped out the back and gotten into a cab waiting around the corner. I have no idea where she went today or what she did." Compton paused. "But I do know she didn't meet with Tyler. I had someone on him all day."

"She didn't offer any explanation?"

"Not a word. She just showed up at my office about three hours ago to bring me my car. I had a hell of a time convincing her to let me drive her to the airport."

McCoy massaged the back of his neck. "Well she had better be in a more talkative mood by the time she gets here because I have more than a few questions I'd like answered."

Compton was silent for a moment. "I take that to mean you plan on meeting her yourself."

"I do."

"I have a favor to ask."

Sitting forward a little, McCoy noted, "I owe you several."

"Whatever Calea did today wasn't easy. She was pretty shaken. In the hour it took to drive to the airport, she hardly said two words. She didn't even rake me over the coals for having her followed this morning." Compton let out a long sigh over the phone. "I know you're angry with her and I don't doubt you have good reason to be. Lord knows there have been plenty of times I've wanted to strangle her myself. But as a favor to me, take it easy on her tonight. Give her a day before you light into her."

McCoy frowned as he contemplated Compton's request. It took several seconds to realize it wasn't so unreasonable.

"My main concern is getting her back safely."

"Thanks, Jack. You know, I was given strict instructions not to tell you when she was returning. So I won't. But I do think I saw a man who may be wanted by you for possible questioning get on a plane to New York a few minutes ago. He got on flight number 674, which should get to you at about 9:00. You can't miss him: average height, average build, no distinguishing marks. I thought you might want to look into it."

Despite his lousy mood, McCoy smiled. "I appreciate the tip and I certainly will look into it."

"One more thing," Compton added. "If Tyler is involved in the murder that took place within your jurisdiction, I'll give you first crack at him and I'll do anything I can to help from this end. I would like to ask you to keep me posted on what you find out. "

"Consider it done," McCoy agreed.

"And as far as Calea is concerned, we never had this conversation."

He nodded and smiled again. "Thanks for your help, Drew."

***McCoy stood back far enough from the gate to be out of the way of the small crowd of people waiting for the arrival of family, friends, or business associates. Being tall had its advantages. He still had a clear view of each person walking off the plane and down the small terminal. He didn't leave his spot until he saw Morgan walk through the opening.

As she stepped around people, she didn't even look up. When she finally did she didn't see him right away. And in that brief, unguarded moment, he was struck by the look of sadness on her face. But upon spotting him her expression immediately changed.

"I guess I don't need to ask which of my former friends told you when I was coming in," she said coldly as he stopped in front of her.

"He didn't exactly tell me when you were getting in."

"Right. You just happened to be in the neighborhood." She glared up at him with flashing eyes. "If you're here for my arrest, I hope you brought help."

At any other time her defiant statement would have brought a smile to his face. But he knew better, given the circumstances. "I'm not here to have you arrested. I'm here to drive you to the hotel."

"I'm sorry you wasted your time coming all this way for nothing, Counselor. I intend to take a cab. I'd really rather be alone."

He kept his voice calm. "I can't let you do that. I'm responsible for getting you safely back under police protection."

"I'm responsible for myself and I'm willing to risk a cab ride. I don't want company," she stated firmly.

He took a half step toward her and spoke quietly. "You have two choices: Either you leave with me now and allow me to drive you back, or I'll call the officers assigned to you and have them come and get you, in which case you will wait with me for the hour or so it will take them to get here."

Her jaw tightened as she stared at him. "Fine. Let's go."

She started to step around him but he blocked her path. "Why don't you let me carry your suitcase."

With a thump, she let it drop to the floor then continued on her way without a backward glance. She had gotten four strides ahead of him before he closed the gap and fell into step beside her.

***They drove for several miles in total silence. McCoy started to make conversation several times but couldn't seem to think of anything neutral to say. He had expected her to be angry with him, and until only a short time before, he had been angry with her as well. But his had faded into relief when he finally saw her and she was irritated enough for both of them.

"The bruise on your head looks better," he commented.

At her continued silence he sighed quietly. They drove for another five minutes before she turned from the window and picked up her briefcase. Reaching into it, she pulled out a file folder and laid it on the seat between them. In the flashes of light coming from the street lamps McCoy looked at her questioningly.

Her voice was flat. "There's enough evidence in that folder to get a warrant for Frank and all the files at Tyler, Cole, and Shuman."

He was caught completely by surprise. "Where did you get it?"

"That isn't important," she replied with annoyance. After a second she continued, "I recognized one of the investors from the file I took as someone whose name was linked to Seth Harrison, who is, by the way, definitely connected. Evan Carpelli was investing money for some of his associates. And believe me, Peter knew nothing about it. I'm still not sure why Evan was killed, but considering who he was doing business with it could be one of any number of reasons. Frank is the one who set Evan up with Harrison's friends. He's been helping invest mob money since accepting Harrison as a client and he's also involved in a lot of their other activities." She paused a moment and her voice grew quieter. "In my lap-top, I have some of Frank's personal files downloaded. I spent the last two hours going through them..."

"You took his files?" McCoy interrupted.

"They were given to me."

"By whom?"

He glanced over to find her staring at him.

"That's irrelevant."

Huffing out a little breath he said, "I don't think it is."

"The person wishes to remain anonymous. Any other questions?" she retorted sharply.

"As a matter of fact, I'd like to know why you risked your safety to get information we could've helped you get from here. Why didn't you tell us what you suspected?"

He expected another angry and evasive remark, but instead she turned to look out of the window. "You said it yourself; it's time for this to be over. And I had to find out for myself. I don't know about the current ones, but all of the original partners were involved with Harrison's activities to one extent or another."

McCoy finally started to understand her mood. "I'm sorry," he offered.

"Why?" she snapped. "They each made an informed decision. And they certainly all knew the possible consequences of their actions."

"It can't be easy finding out what they did. I know you respected them," he noted sympathetically.

"Past tense. Any respect I once had for them ended a long time ago."

He wasn't sure he believed her but he didn't argue. "We'll get started on this information first thing tomorrow. I'll call Compton as soon as we have the warrants ready."

"You can't serve them before Monday."

"The sooner we move, the better. If we have the evidence to support warrants we can have them served before the end of business tomorrow."

"It doesn't matter how soon you can have them. They can't be served before Monday," Morgan insisted.

He glanced at her. "Why not?"

She sat with her arms folded. "Because that's the condition of my giving you this information. I can hold onto the file through the weekend if that's a problem for you."

"If Tyler finds out you have this information, who knows what he will do to keep from being exposed? Not only are we risking losing evidence but he could also decide to try and prevent you from using what you have. You're putting yourself at risk by waiting."

"He isn't going to find out," she assured him, "and the risk is mine to take. So do you agree to my condition or not?"

After a brief hesitation he sighed. "We'll have everything ready to go on Monday."

"Then you can take the file with you tonight. I'll bring the other information to your office with me in the morning."

McCoy thought about the surprising turn of events. He was glad to finally get a break in solving the case. The stack of new case files on his desk was growing daily. But one other thought stuck in his mind above all the rest.

"Well at least it sounds like you won't have to worry about your ex-husband dropping in on you for any more unexpected visits after Monday. His rather physical conversations will be difficult to manage from prison. And I’m sure his second wife is going to be wondering what kind of bargain she got once his activities are revealed."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Morgan’s head snap around. "You think I did this to get even with Frank?" She shook her head slightly. "Believe me when I tell you Frank Tyler is a possessive man. Had I wanted to punish him, I would've done so when we divorced by not only leaving him, but by taking as many of his possessions as possible with me." He could feel her eyes on him. "This isn't about revenge, it's about justice. I resent being put in the position of bringing the actions of Frank and the others to light but they all broke laws they were sworn to uphold. And now that I know that, if I don't do something about it, then I become exactly like them." The anger in her voice faded. "And I thought by now you would've known I'm not that kind of person."

He would've given anything to be anywhere with her but in a car, driving down a busy freeway.

"I do know you're not like that, Calea. And I didn't mean to imply that your motives were due to something personal. I know you're only trying to clear your friend."

Morgan turned away and looked out of the window without a word.

After several long minutes of silence McCoy asked, "Did you get a chance to have dinner before you got on the plane?"

She didn't look at him. "No."

"Would you like to stop and get something to eat?"

"No."

"I don't mind. There's a place close to the hotel."

She turned to him abruptly. "I don't want to talk, I don't want to eat, and I don't want to go back to the hotel. As a matter of fact, I intend to go to my apartment and sleep in my bed tonight. And if you can't bring yourself to comply with my wishes, then you can drop me somewhere and I'll take a cab the rest of the way."

McCoy coughed out a breath as he looked over at her. "Calea..."

"And don't bother with the puppy dog eyes, Jack. I told you at the airport that I didn't want company. It isn't like I didn't warn you."

He shook his head. "Your apartment is not safe."

"Tonight, I really don't care. I want to go home."

Something in her voice made him keep the rest of his protests to himself. He would have to change the arrangements but, considering her tendency to skip out on the police he had assigned, it seemed like the wise course. At least they would know where she was.

They were near her building before he spoke to her again.

"The police traced the call you received at home the morning I was with you but it didn't help. It was from a pay phone. And they still have your cell phone. Do you have another?"

"I have one I use for business in my briefcase."

"If you get any threatening phone calls, let the police know first, then call me. We can have more officers there within minutes."

She remained silent.

"Do you have your card so I can park upstairs?"

"No. I left it at the hotel."

When he got to her building he pulled in front and stopped. Morgan reached for her briefcase, leaving the file behind, and started to open the car door.

"Stay here a minute," he admonished quickly. He checked over his shoulder for traffic and then got out, looking around carefully. Since almost the entire building was devoted to offices, most of the windows were dark and the parking areas deserted. Through the glass front he could see that the lobby was empty except for the security guard at the desk. He took her suitcase from the back seat and then opened her door.

"I can carry it," she said, indicating the bag.

"I'll take it up for you."

She reached and took it from him. "I can manage."

McCoy looked around cautiously, still blocking her path. Seeing that no one was in sight, he said, "Let the officers drive you to my office tomorrow. And if you feel uneasy for any reason tonight, please call me."

"I really can't imagine doing that," Morgan replied sharply, then stepped around him and walked away.

McCoy sighed in frustration as he stood on the sidewalk. As soon as he saw her enter the elevator through the lobby he went into the building. After speaking to the security guard and watching Morgan exit one elevator and get into the next on the security monitor, he made a phone call.

He waited in the lobby with the security guard for almost thirty minutes before the officers arrived.

***"Good morning," McCoy said as Carmichael came into his office.

"Morning. Did Calea get back from Chicago?"

"Yes, she did. I picked her up from the airport last night."

"I called the hotel before I left this morning and they said no one had been in her room since Wednesday."

"I didn't take her to the hotel. I took her to her apartment."

Carmichael gave him a concerned look. "Didn't you say you thought someone may be watching her apartment?"

McCoy shook his head. "She wanted to go home and it seemed like the easiest thing to do last night rather than argue. She wasn't in the best of moods."

"I take it she was still upset with you."

"That's putting it mildly." He paused a second and added quietly, "And I really don't think I have puppy dog eyes."

"She said that?" Carmichael asked with a surprised smile.

"Among other things. But I don't think I was responsible for all of her irritation." He closed the file on his desk and handed it to Carmichael. "I read most of this last night. Calea brought it back from Chicago. Her ex-husband is investing and laundering mob money, just for starters. All the other original partners in the firm were involved in illegal activities as well. She's bringing in files from Tyler's computer that she says further implicates all four."

"Dang," Carmichael said as she opened the file and slowly sat down on the couch. "That would explain the mood."

"There's enough there to have Tyler picked up and his files searched. Compton already said he would cooperate with us if Tyler is implicated in Carpelli's murder, which I feel he is with this information alone. Calea said we can't have him picked up before Monday, though."

"Why not? The sooner we do the sooner this case is over and her life gets back to normal. I know she hates the police tag-along."

"That's what I thought too, but she insists we have to wait." McCoy grew thoughtful. "I've been thinking about it all morning and the only thing I can figure is that she's protecting someone, allowing them time to get out before we move against Tyler's firm."

"Who?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "In any case, the condition I agreed to in order to take the file last night is that we wait. All we can do is trust that she knows what she's doing."

"It seems to me that she just handed our case to us on a silver platter, Jack. Have a little faith," Carmichael urged.

She had read through most of the file, stopping to discuss key points with McCoy, before Morgan appeared at the door.

"Sorry I'm so late," she said after greeting them. "The officers thought we were being followed so they took a few detours."

McCoy sat forward in his chair. "And were you?"

She shrugged slightly. "The car finally turned off."

He sat back, frowning. "It isn't safe for you to return to your apartment. I want you back at the hotel starting tonight," he said sternly, preparing for the inevitable argument.

Morgan sighed as she sat on the edge of the couch beside Carmichael. "I brought my things with me and I already let the officers know I'm going to the hotel later."

McCoy exchanged a surprised look with Carmichael as Morgan reached into her briefcase, then stood up.

"I transferred the files from my laptop to this disk last night. It's yours to keep."

As he took the computer disk from her hand he tried to read her expression but she turned away without meeting his eyes.

They spent the morning searching through the computer files. Carmichael jotted down names, dates, and events connected with each of the former partners and Tyler as she and McCoy sat in front of his computer monitor. Morgan chose to stand behind, explaining what she knew of the people involved in response to their questions.

The two D.A.'s became more engrossed in the evidence as the morning wore on. It was almost noon when McCoy turned to ask Morgan about a new file they had opened. He found her leaning against the window frame, looking out. Noting her dejection he decided to hold his question until later, suggesting they break for lunch instead.

Carmichael tried to engage her in conversation but Morgan was quiet and withdrawn during lunch, showing none of the previous night's anger. McCoy wasn't convinced he liked her remoteness any better.

By 6:00 they were only a little more than halfway through the files. But Carmichael's pad was full of several sheets of evidence against Tyler and a good deal on each of the former partners as well.

"We have what we need in the paper file to have Tyler arrested and the others picked up and brought here for questioning," McCoy noted, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his aching shoulders. "We can continue sifting through the computer files next week. I'm going to send Briscoe and Green to Chicago as soon as we get the search warrants on Monday. I want to hear what the three former partners have to say. It looks like Tyler is the only one who was involved with Carpelli but maybe the others know something about the situation that will help us sort out exactly what happened. As involved as he is I doubt that Tyler is going to be very cooperative."

Carmichael returned her chair to its place beside McCoy's desk. "I'll make an appointment with Judge Wallace for 7 A.M. Monday. As soon as she signs the warrants I'll get them to the detectives." She picked her legal pad up from the desk. "Unless there's something else, I'm going to take off. I'm supposed to meet some people in a little while." At McCoy's nod, she turned to Morgan. "If you're ready, I'll walk out with you."

"I need to talk to Jack for a minute. But thanks anyway, Abbie." Morgan moved from the opposite side of McCoy's desk to sit on the sofa.

"Before you leave, can you get me Green's cell phone number? I want to let him and Briscoe know what's going on. I also want to see if they have anything more on Latham. I'd like to know how he fits into all of this," McCoy said.

After a moment's thought, Carmichael recited the number from memory and left.

From across his desk McCoy watched Morgan fidget for a few seconds. When she didn't immediately offer what was on her mind he said, "I appreciate the information you provided us with and your help today. It would've taken Abbie and me a week to sort through everything we covered."

"You're welcome," Morgan answered quietly, avoiding his eyes. "But I don't think you really need me to be here when you go through the rest. If you have any questions you can call me. I'm not planning on coming here Monday."

He straightened a stack of papers on his desk absently. "I'm going to have the detectives take everyone to the precinct when they get in from Chicago on Monday. Do you want to be at the station for the questioning? You can observe if you'd like."

Morgan glanced at him briefly. "I think I'll pass on that if you don't mind." After a quick sigh, she added, "But I did want to talk to you about Monday. I have to get back to my office. I've been putting clients off all week and I really need to take care of some things."

McCoy shook his head. "Until we have everyone involved in custody, your office is not safe. Someone followed you from there once and they could be waiting for you to return. Give us another week to put all the pieces of the puzzle together before you go back, Calea."

She looked at him squarely. "I can't. I have obligations, Jack. You can make whatever arrangements you think are necessary and I'll go along with them, but I have to be in my office Monday morning."

Trying to decide if arguing would do any good, he studied her for a moment. "Will you at least agree to stay away from your apartment for another week?"

After considering for a few seconds she replied, "Yes."

"Then I'll see what I can do," he reluctantly agreed.

"Thanks," Morgan said as she stood up.

McCoy stood as well. "I'll walk you downstairs."

"That's okay," she offered quickly. "The officers are supposed to meet me in the reception area down the hall. I'm sure they're waiting by now. I took the stairs up this morning and I'm going to take them down. I need the exercise and they probably do too." She paused at the door. "Let me know about Monday."

"I'll call you," he promised. "And if you need anything, call me."

She nodded. "Thanks."

When she had left, McCoy sank into his chair, trying to massage the tightness out of the back of his neck. After a few minutes he picked up the notepaper he had written Green's cell number on and dialed the phone.

When he had reached the detective and asked about Latham, Green explained, "It seems that for the most part he's small-time hired muscle. He'll work for anyone willing to pay and he's not all that picky about what he does. But we haven't been able to find out who he was working for in the Fairchild case. We're still watching him to see who his contacts are, though."

"It's possible he was hired by someone from Chicago." He filled Green in on the evidence they had and the plans for the warrants. "Monday morning I want you and Lennie to fly to Chicago. I'll clear it with Van Buren. The D.A. there has already promised to cooperate and I'll alert him to be expecting you. Then as soon as you get back, let me know."

"Road trip! Sounds good. Anything else?"

"Yes there is." McCoy paused a moment. "Actually, I have a personal favor to ask..."

***Morgan picked up the ringing phone, her eyes glued to the small computer screen in front of her.

"Calea, this is Abbie. Are you interested in going running this afternoon?"

"Are you kidding?" Morgan exclaimed, pushing the laptop forward and leaning on the desk. "I'm about to lose my mind sitting in this hotel room. Tell me where and when and I'll be there."

"We can run at the police academy. I'll come by the hotel and we can let the officers there take us. I'm sure they know the way."

"That sounds great. Thanks, Abbie."

"You can thank Ed Green. It was his idea and he's meeting us. If we take clothes along we can get cleaned up there. Maybe afterwards we can pick up something to eat."

"All right. I can't wait."

***"I don't know about the two of you, but I could use some water," Green gasped between breaths.

"So could I," Morgan agreed as Carmichael nodded.

They left the track and ran the few yards to the gym and the water fountain. Morgan took a few gulps and let Carmichael and Green do the same. They each then went back for a second round.

"You look a little tired, Detective. Having a hard time keeping up?" Carmichael teased.

"It's been a while since I last ran laps but I'm holding my own," Green replied with a smile.

"You have an unfair advantage," Morgan commented. "He has longer legs than we do, Abbie. It takes three of my steps to make two of his."

Carmichael looked at her as the three walked back outside. "I'll lay you odds he's whining in another twenty minutes."

Green gave her a confident look. "If I can't make it another twenty minutes I'll buy you both dinner."

Morgan and Carmichael exchanged smiles. "Deal," they agreed in unison.

Barely fifteen minutes later Green slowed his pace, finally stopping in the middle of the track. He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Morgan and Carmichael returned to stand beside him.

"I think I'll have the lobster," Carmichael decided.

Green straightened and nodded his head.

"Lucky for you I don't like lobster," Morgan added.

"Tell me I don't have to run anymore and I'll buy you anything you want," Green panted.

Carmichael rolled her eyes. "Promises, promises. Go rest up before you pass out."

She and Morgan continued around the track as Green slowly made his way to a picnic table nearby.

When they had run another twenty minutes or so, Carmichael slowed to a walk. "We've run at least seven miles. I'm ready to call it a day."

Morgan nodded as she fell into step beside her.

"If you want to run some more, go for it," Carmichael encouraged.

"You sure you don't mind?" Morgan asked.

"Not at all. I'll go wait with Ed and cool down a little."

"I would like to do a few more laps. I have no idea when I'll get the chance again. If he complains, whistle and I'll stop."

Carmichael left the track and joined Green at the table.

"Is she training for a marathon?" he asked.

Carmichael shrugged. "It's been a long week. She needs to work off some tension. For that matter, so did I."

"Well, the two of you certainly impressed me today. I thought we were going to do a few laps, not a few miles. I didn't know what I was getting myself into."

Looking at him thoughtfully Carmichael asked, "How did you know we were runners?"

Green gave her a suggestive smile. "You look like runners." Seeing that his answer didn't entirely satisfy her, he changed the subject. "I hear Lennie and I get to go to Chicago Monday. I'm beginning to wonder if the Carpelli case is ever going to be closed. How does Calea feel about us picking up her ex-husband and business partners?"

"I'm not sure. I had hoped I could get her to talk about it while we walked and cooled down. But I could tell she wasn't ready to quit."

"When she gets ready, go talk while I take a shower. I'll wait for you."

"Thanks, Ed."

"So, you really want lobster for dinner?" he asked with a smile.

***Carmichael stood in the middle of the track with her hands on her hips as Morgan approached. It took a moment for Morgan to notice but she finally slowed to a walk and gave Carmichael a sheepish smile.

"I guess I forgot to stop," she noted, wiping the sweat from her face with the hem of her shirt. "I think I could've run until sometime tomorrow."

Turning to fall into step beside her, Carmichael smiled. "That's what I was afraid of."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the crushed slate crunching beneath their shoes. After Morgan's breathing became quiet Carmichael glanced at her.

"Tough week."

Morgan nodded. "Yeah."

"First the threats, then the trip to Chicago. I can only imagine how it must be to find out about your ex-partners."

She was quiet a moment before saying, "They made their own choices."

"You had to turn them in, Calea. There was no other way to clear your client."

"I know that." Her voice was filled with frustration. "But these weren't just people I worked with, Abbie. They were my friends for sixteen years. I spent time with their wives and I watched their kids grow up. They taught me the things about being a lawyer that you don't learn in law school. Michael Lockhardt stayed in the office with me until 1 A.M. before my first trial to help me with the opening. When I won the case he took me to dinner to celebrate. He took me to dinner after the first case I lost, too. And we all helped each other through some tough times. When Kevin Ryan's wife was in an accident, I stayed up the entire night and read every scrap of evidence and every trial transcript so I could take over for him the next day. When we won that case, he sent me a dozen roses." She looked at Carmichael. "Yellow roses." At Carmichael's slight smile, Morgan looked off into the distance. "They let their greed and ambition get in the way of their morals and good sense. I did what I had to do, and given the same circumstances I'd do the same thing again. But nothing can make me feel like I'm not betraying friends."

"You have no reason to feel that way. You said it yourself, they made their own choices," Carmichael argued.

Morgan sighed deeply. "When I left Chicago four years ago, I told myself that what they did was not my concern. And as long as I didn't know any details I still could believe the best about all of them." She shook her head. "Maybe I just didn't want to know. And maybe the real problem is I resent having my illusions shattered. One more thing I can thank Frank for."

"He does seem to be behind this whole mess," Carmichael observed.

"I can't argue with you about that."

"So does knowing he's the one responsible make it easier to turn him in?"

"Yes," Morgan answered emphatically. But after a pause, she said quietly, "No. It should be, but it isn't."

"Do you still care for him?"

Morgan stopped walking and turned to Carmichael. "No. Why do you ask?"

Under the other woman's scrutiny Carmichael shrugged. "Something Jack said made me wonder."

Turning on her heel, Morgan continued walking. "You would think I could get through one day without hearing one of Jack McCoy's opinions, whether from his mouth or someone else's."

"Why are you so angry with him?" Carmichael asked as she caught up with her.

"That should be obvious. Involving the Chicago authorities and having me picked up at the airport was completely uncalled for. He crossed the line when he interfered in my personal life."

"Did it ever occur to you that he might have done so because he cares about you? Jack and I may not always agree on everything, but there is one thing I can tell you about him: He genuinely cares about the people close to him and he's very protective of those he cares about."

"To be honest with you, I'm not particularly interested in his motives."

"Well even though I’d never let him hear me say this, I kind of like it when he worries about me," Carmichael admitted. "Underneath that hard-nosed D.A. exterior he's really a nice guy, Calea."

Morgan gave her a sideways look. "Since I know you're seeing someone else, I assume you're trying to sell me on that point."

"I'm not trying to sell you on him, I was only making an observation," Carmichael noted with a little smile.

After a few moments Morgan replied quietly, "I know he's a nice guy but I don't want to be one of those people he cares about, Abbie. I don't mean to sound conceited but sometimes I get the feeling he wants more than just friendship from me, and that’s all I have to give. It doesn't take a genius to see that he needs someone in his life. I don't need or want someone in mine, though, and I don't want to be responsible for hurting him."

"So what do you intend to do? Keep him at arm's length by staying angry with him forever?"

With a slight shrug Morgan responded flatly, "Whatever works."

Looking at her sharply Carmichael noticed that Morgan's expression was as emotionless as her voice. Unsure of how to respond she nodded toward the building ahead of them. "Come on. Let's grab a shower and get dressed. I'm starving."

***McCoy left the newspaper spread on the bar to get up and answer the phone.

"Hi, it's Calea. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," he assured her as he sat in the chair beside his desk. "I was just reading the paper."

"I got your message last night but it was kind of late. I went for a run with Abbie and Ed Green, then we had dinner. I thought I'd better wait and call this morning."

"That's fine. I had called to let you know about tomorrow. I still don't think going to your office is a good idea but since I can't talk you out of it, I've arranged for two officers to be posted there. A patrol car is also going to swing by several times during the day to let their presence be known." He paused for a second before adding, "I'd like to ask you to limit your appointments to people you already know, if possible. Seeing someone who calls up as a new client could be a mistake."

"I can see your point," Morgan agreed. "And I appreciate your help."

"I also arranged for you to stay at a place closer to your office than where you are now. You can take your things with you in the morning and the officers will take you to the new hotel after you finish for the day."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. "That was thoughtful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. If there's anything else I can do, please let me know."

"Thanks, but I can't think of anything at the moment." After another pause she added, "Well, I'll let you get back to your paper."

"Calea," he said slowly, "do you want me to let you know how things go tomorrow?"

He heard her sigh. "Not really. Not unless you specifically need my help. My case involved Peter. This one is all yours."

"All right. Please be careful tomorrow."

"I will. Good-bye Jack."